UC: UNDERCOVER:
ACHILLES HEEL
By Wendy
Part four
Well, that was interesting, Frank thought to himself, even going as far to allow the corners of his lips curl upward into a smile. He couldn't help being reminded of a rooster in a hen house as he had watched Bloom puff out his chest and crow in an attempt to show Donovan who was boss. And though he was finding some personal amusement in Bloom's need to 'piss on the furniture and stake his claim', Frank could also see where the man was coming from.
Paul Bloom was feeling that as head of the unit he should've had some say in who would head UC, and when things moved too quickly and he didn't get a vote, of course he had to feel slighted. Somehow, Frank knew this wouldn't be the last time his boss would find the need to wave his position of authority at him.
The interrupting tone of the telephone broke his thoughts.
"Frank?" A familiar voice asked on the other end of the line.
Donovan closed his eyes, not wanting to reply to the voice.
"I know you're there Frank, I need to see you. Half an hour, the usual place. Be there, buddy. It's important. Frank?"
"I'll be there," Donovan agreed as he placed the receiver back on its cradle.
"Damn you Harry," Frank cursed under his breath, as he stood and grabbed his coat. "Damn you!" He swore again as he headed out of his office.
UCUCUCUCUCUCUCUCUCUC
The well-dressed man looked more suited for a power lunch in an expensive restaurant than sitting on a park bench eating his lunch from a paper bag that he had just pulled from his overcoat pocket. The pinch of his nose and miserable forty-something face spoke volumes of his desire for something more appealing to eat.
"Curse that woman!" He scowled, before sighing and taking a reluctant bite out of one half of the unappetizing meal.
Sensing a presence, the prematurely graying-blonde, slid over and allowed his guest to take a seat beside him.
"What some," He offered a little too eagerly.
Frank Donovan passed on the repast from his old friend Harry Case with a wave of his hand. "Thanks anyway, Harry."
"Just as well," Harry snorted, screwing up his nose as he again attempted to swallow the inedible morsel that refused to leave his throat.
"Moira?" Frank grinned.
"Yeah," Harry groused. "The woman is trying to kill me, I swear. I've survived a dozen back alley wars, a coup d'état and worst still the office coffee, but it will be a middle aged secretary and her cross between rabbit food and cat litter that will eventually do me in." Unable to face another bite, Harry shoved the sandwich back in its bag and threw it in a nearby bin. "I won't tell her, if you don't."
This time Frank didn't return the small talk as he hunched forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he got to the point. "What do you want, Harry?"
"A new secretary?" Harry quipped, before taking a more serious tone. "I heard about what you did for the Murphy kid. You did a good job."
"I did it for the kid, Harry, and because I was asked to, don't read anything in to it," Frank replied, his voice wooden and distant. Turning his head to glance at Harry, Donovan became suddenly suspicious of this meeting. "Is that what this is all about? Seeing how I 'handled' it?"
"No, it isn't," Harry defended, angry at the accusation, even if he knew that Donovan was partially right in his assumption. "Damn it, Frank, you're my friend, don't land on me because I care, okay?"
Donovan, sighed as he sat upright, running a hand through his short dark hair, "Sorry," the younger man apologized.
"It's okay, you know that, water off a duck's back. I never listen to you anyway," Harry smiled patiently, before the real reason he was here caused the smile to fade. "Look, Frank, the thing is, there is a serious hit out on you."
If Donovan was shocked, it never showed on his face. "Who's paying?"
"We're pretty sure Alejandro Ortega is behind it, but we haven't been able to find out who took the job as yet. We're still working on it," Harry replied as he fixed a determined glare on his friend. "Until then, you've got to let someone watch your back, Frank. It's not an option."
"Okay, I'll handle it." Frank reluctantly agreed, before getting to his feet and starting to walk away, knowing he was leaving a frustrated friend in his wake. Having taken only a couple of steps, Donovan yielded to his guilt and stopped, turning around he focused a softer gaze on his friend. "Thanks for the warning, Harry, and it 'was' good to see you again."
"He wouldn't blame you know, Frank" Harry called out to his friend, taking one more chance to break through the barrier Donovan had put up between himself and the world. "If Michael could tell you himself, he would tell you that one thing, Frank, you've got to know that?"
Frank flinched, his eyes haunted by another time and place as he shrugged himself further into his overcoat, refusing to let his walls done. "Not now, Harry, can't do this now," he said as he quickly turned and walked away.
Letting out an audible sigh of disappointment, Harry shook his head as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and dialed his office. "Stupid, pig-headed...No, Moira, not you," he quickly placated his hurt secretary on the other end of the phone. "Yes, Moira, they were great...no Moira, I didn't notice the sprinkling of parsley, but I'm sure my stomach did....Moira," Harry stumbled over his words as he tried to catch a break in the woman's babbling. "Moira! Listen, this important. Ring Agent Paul Bloom of UC for me. Tell him I have to see him ASAP. And thanks for lunch." He lied, as he canceled the call. "If you're not going to help yourself, Frank, then I'll have to do it for you."
TBC
ACHILLES HEEL
By Wendy
Part four
Well, that was interesting, Frank thought to himself, even going as far to allow the corners of his lips curl upward into a smile. He couldn't help being reminded of a rooster in a hen house as he had watched Bloom puff out his chest and crow in an attempt to show Donovan who was boss. And though he was finding some personal amusement in Bloom's need to 'piss on the furniture and stake his claim', Frank could also see where the man was coming from.
Paul Bloom was feeling that as head of the unit he should've had some say in who would head UC, and when things moved too quickly and he didn't get a vote, of course he had to feel slighted. Somehow, Frank knew this wouldn't be the last time his boss would find the need to wave his position of authority at him.
The interrupting tone of the telephone broke his thoughts.
"Frank?" A familiar voice asked on the other end of the line.
Donovan closed his eyes, not wanting to reply to the voice.
"I know you're there Frank, I need to see you. Half an hour, the usual place. Be there, buddy. It's important. Frank?"
"I'll be there," Donovan agreed as he placed the receiver back on its cradle.
"Damn you Harry," Frank cursed under his breath, as he stood and grabbed his coat. "Damn you!" He swore again as he headed out of his office.
UCUCUCUCUCUCUCUCUCUC
The well-dressed man looked more suited for a power lunch in an expensive restaurant than sitting on a park bench eating his lunch from a paper bag that he had just pulled from his overcoat pocket. The pinch of his nose and miserable forty-something face spoke volumes of his desire for something more appealing to eat.
"Curse that woman!" He scowled, before sighing and taking a reluctant bite out of one half of the unappetizing meal.
Sensing a presence, the prematurely graying-blonde, slid over and allowed his guest to take a seat beside him.
"What some," He offered a little too eagerly.
Frank Donovan passed on the repast from his old friend Harry Case with a wave of his hand. "Thanks anyway, Harry."
"Just as well," Harry snorted, screwing up his nose as he again attempted to swallow the inedible morsel that refused to leave his throat.
"Moira?" Frank grinned.
"Yeah," Harry groused. "The woman is trying to kill me, I swear. I've survived a dozen back alley wars, a coup d'état and worst still the office coffee, but it will be a middle aged secretary and her cross between rabbit food and cat litter that will eventually do me in." Unable to face another bite, Harry shoved the sandwich back in its bag and threw it in a nearby bin. "I won't tell her, if you don't."
This time Frank didn't return the small talk as he hunched forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he got to the point. "What do you want, Harry?"
"A new secretary?" Harry quipped, before taking a more serious tone. "I heard about what you did for the Murphy kid. You did a good job."
"I did it for the kid, Harry, and because I was asked to, don't read anything in to it," Frank replied, his voice wooden and distant. Turning his head to glance at Harry, Donovan became suddenly suspicious of this meeting. "Is that what this is all about? Seeing how I 'handled' it?"
"No, it isn't," Harry defended, angry at the accusation, even if he knew that Donovan was partially right in his assumption. "Damn it, Frank, you're my friend, don't land on me because I care, okay?"
Donovan, sighed as he sat upright, running a hand through his short dark hair, "Sorry," the younger man apologized.
"It's okay, you know that, water off a duck's back. I never listen to you anyway," Harry smiled patiently, before the real reason he was here caused the smile to fade. "Look, Frank, the thing is, there is a serious hit out on you."
If Donovan was shocked, it never showed on his face. "Who's paying?"
"We're pretty sure Alejandro Ortega is behind it, but we haven't been able to find out who took the job as yet. We're still working on it," Harry replied as he fixed a determined glare on his friend. "Until then, you've got to let someone watch your back, Frank. It's not an option."
"Okay, I'll handle it." Frank reluctantly agreed, before getting to his feet and starting to walk away, knowing he was leaving a frustrated friend in his wake. Having taken only a couple of steps, Donovan yielded to his guilt and stopped, turning around he focused a softer gaze on his friend. "Thanks for the warning, Harry, and it 'was' good to see you again."
"He wouldn't blame you know, Frank" Harry called out to his friend, taking one more chance to break through the barrier Donovan had put up between himself and the world. "If Michael could tell you himself, he would tell you that one thing, Frank, you've got to know that?"
Frank flinched, his eyes haunted by another time and place as he shrugged himself further into his overcoat, refusing to let his walls done. "Not now, Harry, can't do this now," he said as he quickly turned and walked away.
Letting out an audible sigh of disappointment, Harry shook his head as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and dialed his office. "Stupid, pig-headed...No, Moira, not you," he quickly placated his hurt secretary on the other end of the phone. "Yes, Moira, they were great...no Moira, I didn't notice the sprinkling of parsley, but I'm sure my stomach did....Moira," Harry stumbled over his words as he tried to catch a break in the woman's babbling. "Moira! Listen, this important. Ring Agent Paul Bloom of UC for me. Tell him I have to see him ASAP. And thanks for lunch." He lied, as he canceled the call. "If you're not going to help yourself, Frank, then I'll have to do it for you."
TBC